


Kalon (Part 2)

by pressedinthepages



Series: Kalon [2]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Codpieces, Draw Me Like One of Your French Girls, Drawing, F/M, Fluff, Love Confessions, Oral Sex, Smut, Soft Eskel (The Witcher), Vaginal Sex, bless his heart, hell yeah, poor eskel doesnt think hes pretty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:20:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25270771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pressedinthepages/pseuds/pressedinthepages
Summary: You find inspiration for your next drawing, and Eskel is happy to help.
Relationships: Eskel (The Witcher)/Reader
Series: Kalon [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1830748
Comments: 10
Kudos: 54





	Kalon (Part 2)

**Author's Note:**

> OMG, I just hit 100 followers!!! I am beyond words, thank you all so much for your kind words and support of this weird venture I’ve embarked on XD I was originally going to wait a little longer to release this chapter, but I thought it would be a nice way to celebrate the milestone :)

“May I draw you again?”

Your words ring clear in the lull of the morning, Eskel being the only other person in the kitchen with you. You’ve gotten up early, intent on making breakfast for the Witchers. You’d not been up longer than five minutes before Eskel joined you, wrapping an arm around your waist and placing a lingering kiss to your cheek before sitting at one of the benches at the table. 

The pot of kasha steams and bubbles over the fire as you ladle two bowls full, bringing them over to the table as you speak. At your words, Eskel’s eyes shoot to yours, fingers clenching on nothing in particular. You set a bowl in front of him before sitting on the other side of the table, facing him as you sprinkle some dried fruits into your breakfast. 

Eskel stares into his bowl, mixing some molasses into his kasha with a bit more ferocity than necessary. You let him ponder your question, gently blowing on the first spoonful of your meal as you tuck in. 

“Did-” he clears his throat before starting again, “Did you have anything specific in mind?”

“Actually, yes, but only if it was alright with you,” you whisper, not wanting to wake the others up before you could actually make your request. Ever since that first kiss that you shared, you’ve been unable to keep this idea from your mind. 

Eskel’s eyes are still glued to the bowl, absentmindedly running his thumb over a groove in the table as he mulls over your words. “How is it you want to draw me?” His voice is low and gravelly, but you can’t tell if it’s from having just woken up or nervousness.

“Well,” you start, pushing away your now-empty bowl, “I know how important your wolf medallion is, and I want to highlight that with you wearing it,”

Eskel’s brows furrow, his head tilting down to glance at the metal circle that hangs from his neck. “Okay...seems easy enough-”

“Wearing _only_ the medallion.”

Eskel’s golden eyes dart back to yours, a deep flush settling across the high planes of his cheeks. His spoon stills, halfway between the bowl and his mouth before he drops it, landing back in the bowl with a loud clatter. At the noise, he blinks back to himself, his hand coming up to scratch at the scars on his face.

“Can-can I think about it?” he murmurs, not fully comfortable but intrigued nonetheless. 

“Of course, darling, I’d never want to push you into something that you didn’t want to do,” your words reassure him as footsteps sound from across the keep. Eskel pushes away his now-abandoned breakfast, deep in thought as you rise to clean up. 

When you return, all of the other wolves have gathered around the table, Lambert sliding up to sit next to Eskel with a bowl of his own. Geralt’s hair is wild with sleep, and Vesemir sips from a steaming mug as he works on waking to a reasonable state. Here, in the safety of the keep, the witchers can afford to fully rest and take their time in lounging as the sun rises.

You rest a hand on Eskel’s shoulder before coasting onto the bench beside him, nodding a greeting to Geralt as he reaches for the molasses. Eskel turns his head to you, meeting your eyes as he stares deep into them. He smiles, something fleeting between heartbeats, before leaning to whisper in your ear.

“I’ll do it.”

* * *

That evening, you’re setting up the different materials that you’ve collected throughout the day. Your journal and pencils rest on your bed as you work, draping several thick furs over the cold stone floor in front of the fire. There is no moon tonight, only the stars twinkling in the sky as they wait in anticipation. 

As the last fur hits the ground you stand, hands on your hips as you consider if there’s anything else you’ll need. The room is silent, save for the occasional crackling of the fire, and you jump a bit when there is a sudden knock at the door. 

You cross the room, your light skirt just barely drifting along the floor. You typically wear trousers around the keep, since they’re much warmer and easier to work in, but the skirt is less restrictive, fluttering and flowing around your legs. The door opens with a low creak, revealing Eskel standing behind it. His broad form takes up most of the doorway, but at least he has foregone the heavy armor and swords that are almost always strapped to his back.

You smile, stepping back into the room and gesture for Eskel to follow. He does, gently closing the door behind him and kicking his boots off by the table before joining you in front of the fire. His hands are cool in yours as you take them, running your fingers over his knuckles as you look into his eyes. He’s nervous, you can tell, but you can also see the budding excitement that lies contained just below the surface. 

“You’re sure that you’re okay with this?” you ask, your voice soft and soothing.

“Mhm,” Eskel nods, leaning down to place a sweet kiss to your lips. You smile into it, squeezing his hands in your own as you pull back. 

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, dear,” you reach to his waist and untuck the light shirt from his trousers. The fabric is soft and well worn, comfortable to even the barest touch. You reach to undo the buttons at the neck, letting the edges fall away and reveal little glimpses of tanned skin. You fit your fingers under the hem and lift, raising the shirt over his head as he slides out of it. You carefully fold it up, taking your time as you place it on the edge of the bed. 

You turn around, your eyes roving Eskel’s newly exposed chest as he watches you. You let yourself look, taking in the swell of his arms, the breadth of his shoulders, the dark dusting of hair over his skin, lingering only slightly on a particularly painful-looking scar that sits just below his sternum. You cross the room back to him, running your hands up his arms as you feel the muscles beneath twitch under your fingers. You admire the medallion, bright silver raised in the shape of a wolf’s head. You kiss the skin right next to it, Eskel’s chest pushing into your touch as he takes in a deep breath.

You straighten up, letting your fingers skirt along the band of his trousers. Your eyes flick up to his for permission, smiling to yourself as he nods for you to continue.

“Red is a good color on you,” you murmur, deftly undoing the bright ties on his codpiece. He huffs out a laugh, his smile easy and soft under your watch. You slip your hands down, pulling the now loosened trousers to the floor as you kneel. Eskel rests a hand on your shoulder as he steps out of them, letting you slide them out from underneath him. 

You turn once more to the bed, folding the garments as you go and placing them with the same care that you had his shirt. When you face him once more, your eyes run up the long planes of his legs, the slight dip of his hip, and the impressive manhood that hid under the not-so-subtle codpiece. You blush a bit when you notice that he is already half-hard, swelling and flushing with the beginnings of his arousal. 

As you approach him, you take a moment to thread your hands through his hair with a sweet reverence. Eskel sighs into your touch as you trace the lines and valleys of his face, feeling the slope of his nose and the slightly chapped lips under your fingers. You step back after a moment, fiddling with a loose thread on your blouse to keep your hands busy.

“This alright, love?” Eskel blushes at the pet name, lowering his gaze for a moment before smiling lightly at you. 

“I’m fine, it’s a little odd though,” he says, quiet in the sanctuary of the room, “I don’t think I’ve ever felt so...exposed…” His brow furrows as his voice trails off, his gaze vulnerable as you smile back at him. 

“Do you want to continue? We’ll stop if you don’t want to-”

“Yes, I mean, yes I want to continue, it’s strange, but a _good_ strange,” Eskel’s voice is strong now, reassuring both of you with his words. 

“Well then,” you hum, “let’s get started.” There is a cushiony chair in the corner of the room and you move over to it, pulling it back to sit at an angle just off parallel to the fireplace. “Eskel, could you kneel, almost like you’re meditating? Mostly faced towards me, but angled a little bit away towards the fire please.” Your voice is no more than a whisper as you grab your materials, kicking off your shoes before sitting in the chair as he follows your direction. 

Eskel’s eyes flick up to yours as he settles, knees pressing into the soft furs as he rests his hands atop them. The medallion around his neck glints with the light from the fire as he adjusts for a moment, getting comfortable. When he is satisfied, he looks over to you for what to do next. 

“My Gods, you are simply gorgeous,” you smile, Eskel preening slightly at your words. “Now, I just want you to relax. This may take a little while, so please, just let me know if you need anything-oh wait, I almost forgot!”

You jump up, grabbing the cup of water that you had brought with you earlier in the evening. You set it at his side, leaving it within reach so that he can grab it with ease. Taking a thin strand of leather, you tie your hair back from your face, a few strands falling down nonetheless. You sit back down in the chair, tucking your feet under you as you flip to a fresh page. 

“Eskel, you can close your eyes if it’s better for you, I just want you to be comfortable. Okay, here we go…” You take a deep breath before pressing the pencil to the page, gently marking the outline of his form. You hum lightly as you work, watching as Eskel sits still under your gaze. The fire warms you from the outside as you feel a different warmth bloom from deep within, settling in your core as you begin to add details. 

You sit like this for a while, tracing the numerous scars and the lines of his muscles with your pencil. Eskel is relaxed, breathing slowly as you focus on the medallion. You take your time here, smudging and erasing the harsh lines to fade into a better representation of the decades of wear that it has seen. You move up and down his body on the page, shading and highlighting every inch of his skin with as much reverence as you would if you were actually touching him. 

You watch as Eskel’s chest rises with a deep breath in through his nose, almost growling as he exhales. His cock throbs in his lap, now fully hard and leaking onto his hip. He murmurs your name and you hum in response, using the opportunity to focus on capturing the way his length bends upward slightly at the end.

“You smell _delicious_ ,” your gaze flicks up, catching him looking over at you. He is still in exactly the same position, but his eyes are open and boring into you, golden flames stoking the fire in your core. 

“Patience, love,” you chide, smiling as you consider that you could really be speaking to either of you at this point. “I’m almost finished…”

Eskel smirks, his eyes falling closed as he takes another deep breath. You shake your head, now determined to complete this quickly. You stop and start back a few times, looking over the picture for mistakes and making small adjustments as you find them.

Finally satisfied, you rise from the chair and cross to the table by the door. You set down your journal and pencils, releasing your hair from its tie before turning back to Eskel. He is still kneeling on the floor, his eyes open once more and tracking your every move. 

“Will you let me see it?” he asks, turning his head slightly towards you as you slink to his side. You stand over him, watching as he raises his eyes to look directly at you. They are clouded with lust, his hesitance and shame having been washed away by your worship of him. 

“Hmm,” you ponder out loud, “I could, but _Gods,_ I want to touch you so badly…” You lean down and fit the tip of one of your fingers under his chin, tracing the line of his jaw as you sink to meet him. You thread your fingers through the silk of his hair, bringing them down to rest at the back of his neck as you pull him to you.

Your lips meet in a sweet, soft caress before swelling into something bigger, more powerful as Eskel steals your breath. You move as a push and pull of the tides, each keeping the other steady as your hands become desperate. Eskel licks into your mouth, sweeping you into his embrace as you feel his hand start to undo the ties of your skirt. It floats to the ground, pooling around you as he lifts your chemise. 

His hands are rough against the soft skin of your abdomen, but he moves with such grace that it’s insignificant. Your lips part only for the time it takes for the chemise to be lifted from your head before you surge back into Eskel’s grasp. His hands quickly find the ties to your underclothes, but he fumbles blindly with the knots. You laugh into his mouth when he growls in frustration, finally choosing to just rip them off of you. A fresh wave of arousal surges through you when you are finally, _blissfully,_ bare before him, pressing as much skin into him as you can. 

You fling your clothes off of the rugs, leaving them to be picked up in the morning. You have far better things to concern yourself with at the moment, pushing Eskel’s shoulders back to have him lay on the furs as you straddle his hips. His hands move all over you, touching everywhere he can reach, glancing up your thighs, over your hips, pressing across your breasts, grabbing you by the hands and pulling you down, capturing your lips once more. 

He nips at the bottom lip before shifting his weight, bracing one of his feet on the floor before twisting, flipping the both of you so that you lie on the floor, caged in his arms. You laugh freely, the sound turning swiftly into a moan as Eskel brings his hand to cup your cunt.

“My Gods,” he sighs, “you’re _dripping_ ,”

“Mmm, only for you, darling,” you hum as his fingers move up and down the length of your slit, your legs falling open as he moves downward. Eskel takes his time, kissing and licking along your skin before laying on the floor with his head between your legs. Your nerves are singing under your skin, rising and falling in hums of pleasure that reverberate through your bones. He kisses along the inside of one of your thighs, climbing up, up, finally finding the peak of your core and suckling the little bundle of nerves. Your hands tangle in his hair as you moan, the sound low and deep and pressed through gritted teeth as he slowly sinks two of his fingers into you.

He hums against you, licking and thrusting and pushing and holding and _taking,_ leaving you with barely a breath to tide you over. Your hips rock unbidden, chasing a pleasure that only they know the path to. You watch Eskel, his eyes glazed over, fucked out on the taste of you, his hips rutting against the ground in time with his fingers in your cunt. 

“Oh gods, please, Eskel, _please_ ,” you babble, words turning incoherent as he brushes just the smallest glance of teeth against you. He groans, sending you soaring into an abyss of stars that burn too bright and noise that is deafening in its silence. Your thighs shake and your core clenches around Eskel’s fingers as he coaxes through your climax.

You sink down into the furs, finding his hand at your waist and threading your fingers together as you whisper, “Oh, Eskel,”

He falls apart, growling into you as his hips falter, his hand squeezing yours as his release takes over. He thrusts a few times more, spilling between his body and the furs as he holds you tight. Eskel gasps against your core, his lips shiny with the evidence of your arousal. His grip relaxes as he comes down, breathing deeply as he rises to his knees. He is still hard, his own spend dripping down his chest as he looms above you. You reach up, tracing a line through it, feeling him clench as you do. You bring your hand to your mouth and suck his spend from your fingers.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Eskel says, leaning down to kiss you. Instinctively, you wrap your legs around his waist as you taste your own arousal on his mouth. He is heavy atop you, the weight of him enveloping you as you thrust your hips gently towards his. You pull back, panting as you feel the tip of his cock against your folds. 

“Please, Eskel, don’t make me beg,” you murmur into his lips. He hums in response, looking down as he takes his length in his hand to align himself. His mahogany hair tickles your forehead as he leans against you, slowly pressing into your core. Your fingers grasp for purchase on the thickest parts of his arms, your nails digging in as he stretches you wide. It’s almost too much, dancing the line between pain and pleasure. 

But when he pulls back, only to thrust into you again just a little bit faster, you can’t help that your legs push against his back, forcing him deeper inside of you as your hips rise to meet him. Your breaths intermingle in the space between you, filled with praise and begging for more, _more,_ his cock spearing, nudging the bundle of nerves nestled deep in your core with every snap of his hips. 

“Oohh, yes, Eskel, _right there_ , keep going, just like that,” your voice is husky in the night, stars drifting from their place in the sky to line your words. Eskel pushes himself up, gripping your hips with an insurmountable strength and holding you steady as he fucks into you. Your back arches with the new angle, feeling every move that he makes in a way that drowns out everything from existence. All you know in this moment is Eskel, the bright, shining moon that was missing from your sky. 

“ _Fuck,_ I’m-I’m gonna…” Eskel groans as his thrusts turn sloppy, the sound of skin on skin echoing around the room.

“Go on, take your pleasure in me, let me have it,” you grip his hand where it rests once more and he _roars,_ spending deep inside of you, his cock throbbing against the most sensitive spot over and over _and over,_ and all of that sends you spiraling in your own peak with him. Your bones sing, simultaneously feeling everything and nothing as you hurtle through an endless night. Eskel comes and comes, his climax taking over all of his senses, his spend dripping past the tight seal of his cock in your cunt and dripping down onto the furs. 

As the stars return to their place in the sky you smile, pulling him down to kiss him, humming against his mouth. He pulls out of you, a small whine crawling out of your chest with the emptiness. Eskel kneels next to you, fitting his arms beneath your knees and your back as he swiftly rises, cradling you in his grasp as he carries you to the bed. He sets you down gently, laughing as you keep your hands locked around his neck and try to pull him in after you. 

“Hang on a moment, love, I just want to grab something,” he pads away and you get comfortable, yanking the blanket up and nuzzling into it, accidentally kicking Eskel’s clothes off of the bed in your haste. When Eskel returns to your side, he climbs into the bed beneath the blanket, pulling you close as he fits his nose just beneath your ear. He inhales, moaning softly as he relaxes into your arms. 

“You always smell so nice,” he whispers, light and sweet in your ear. He pulls back, letting you curl around his side as he holds you close. You rest your head on his chest, reaching for the journal that he has clasped in his free hand. Eskel opens it, flipping to the most recent page. You feel him tense up just a bit beneath you, his heartbeat quickening ever so slightly as he regards the drawing on the parchment. 

“I-I don’t know what to say, I just...thank you,” his words rumble through his chest, thick with emotion that he still doesn’t really know what to do with. You tilt your head up, looking into his golden eyes that are shiny with unshed tears.

“You don’t have to say anything, I know,” you murmur, letting him hold you close as the stars twinkle and fade in the early morning light, content in their witness to worship.

**Author's Note:**

> So i just needed to tell you that I also briefly considered using this infamous photo (https://ichef.bbci.co.uk/news/1024/media/images/59944000/jpg/_59944325_br_cosmo624.jpg) as a reference for Eskel’s pose, but I couldn’t write it without laughing hysterically so I went with this instead XD
> 
> Thanks so much for reading, you can find me on tumblr @pressedinthepages


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